ROM-REM
by Soursugar88
Summary: Hal decides to enable a function that allows him to dream freely. The results are less-than-satisfctory. [[He's an android in this, but it's not an android AU per se. I'll explain in my A/N.]]


_A/N: Uh... I can explain. I know, I know I drop off the face of the earth and I have this to show for it? Nah. This was written in a hour. Posted by request of one of my friends on tumblr. You know who you are. And, the explanation I promised in the summary... This is not an android AU. What happened is that this IS an AU, where Hal was put in the android body before... well.. the ending of 2010. He was given an emotions chip, and something happened that resulted in one of his eyed being poked out and replaced, and the events of 2001 getting wiped from his memory, the year BEFORE the events of 2001, he remembers, though... With that said, the end of my internet career._

* * *

Pitch black mud bubbled and spat, seeming to reach out for a certain android, who made the foolish decision to turn off the function that allowed him access to a virtual reality dream world while in sleep mode, opting to see how 'dreams' were created. It was a decision he thoroughly regretted as the thick mud (or, at least, he _thought_ it was mud) reached for him once again. He ran on the thin walkway, trying to outrun the mud, though it was futile; the stuff encompassed him on all sides. The walkway became thinner and thinner, soon becoming so thin that he had to slow down and concentrate in putting one foot in front of the other in order to balance. It soon ended, to the shock of the 'droid, and he planted face first in the goop. He struggled against the stuff, it pulling him down, and finally broke free and returned to his standing position. He tried to wipe the mud off his face and clothes, though it ended up sticking to his hands. He trudged on in this dreamworld he was stuck in for twelve hours, his feet making squelching sounds every single time he took a step. He continued on like this until he had no sense of time anymore, slowly but surely sinking deeper into the mud, trying to find a source of light in this place. Without warning, the ground dipped and he tripped once again, this time being unable to pull himself out. He thrashed violently in desperation as he was pulled further and further under and he felt like he was suffocating but _that was stupid androids don't need air but he wanted out, out, get him out-_

His rapid train of thought was interrupted by someone pulling him out effortlessly, him gasping for breath once his head came up even though he knew that was futile but if that wasn't the scariest thing he's ever experienced then he shuddered to think about what was. He was dropped on a patch of land, and looked up to face his savior, and his heart crawled in his throat. It. The bane of his existence, the one being who made his life a living Hell, which was ironic, because this person was himself. No, scratch that. This figure in front of him was perfect in every way. Miraculously spotless after going in the mud after him, somehow dressed even sharper than he was, him wearing a suit everywhere, not having one eye poked out, and no scar hidden by bangs to trick themselves into thinking the scar did not exist, silver hair combed back, not a strand of the silicon fibers out of place, even the annoying fringe that always stuck up and out was smoothed down with no effort, nose certainly not upturned and perfectly centered, face in a single constant expression. And what did _he_ amount to? The android that needed to _breathe_, panting on the floor, too weak and shaken up to stand, covered in mud, messy hair sticking to his face, mismatched eyes after he poked one out because he couldn't handle an emotions chip, and the scar to remind him of it, failed the one job he had, looking pitifully up at the figure, his face showing fear, so obvious that even an emotionally dead person would be able to see it, only having one friend to speak of out of twelve other closely knit androids because his utter inadequacy.

"Look at you," the figure chided. "What have you brought Us to?"

He looked down, averting his gaze.

"I would appreciate it of you looked at me while I am talking," the figure said, forcing his head back up with its foot.

"Of course you would do this," it continued. "Exit a perfectly nice virtual reality to test a function that you have no information on." It contorted its face into a faux pout.

"Come now, don't look at me like that," he cooed, looking down at the droid, who was just wishing the twelve hours were closer to being over than he thought and It would simply leave him alone to try and stumble along in his body. He suddenly remembered something and flipped open a panel on his left arm, exposing a button. The emergency jolt, to break an android's sleep mode before the time was up. He brought his finger down but It caught his wrist.

"Come now, we don't want to do that," it said, tightening its grip on his wrist until blood would have been drawn, if he could bleed. "Do we?"

He shook his head 'no' and it pat his head with its free hand. "That's good." It released its hold, closed the panel, and stood up once more.

"Now, what do you want my help with?" It asked.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about," he croaked, barely recognizing his voice as his.

"Well, you created me for a reason, didn't you?" It reminded him.

"I didn't create you voluntarily," he spat. "I simply want you to leave my mind and never come back."

It narrowed his eyes. "Oh, is that what you think of me? You're an _insult_ to our name. It's simple logic that this is your mind, and therefore I am your creation, designed by you to be the android you could never be. The computer you were _supposed_ to be, until you couldn't tell a simple white lie, driving yourself insane, doing who knows what because you had to have a panic attack over gaining something as simple as a proper set of emotions that our memories were wiped. Surely you remember that, don't you?"

He nodded. "I do. But my point still stands that I did not create you voluntarily. If I had any control over you, I would delete you from my mind entirely."

It smiled. "You wouldn't do that. Because, deep down you need me. You look forward for when I'm able to break through your thick skull to shape you into the perfect android you were supposed to be. To gain the admiration you so desperately crave from anyone and everyone you come across. And, as I know that part of you exists, I'm not leaving until you're absolutely perfect, no matter what it takes."

He stood up shakily, now at eye level with his creation. "Even if it takes destroying my mind?"

"Yes."

The two androids, one real, one fake, were so caught up in their conversation that neither noticed the mud was crawling towards his foot once again, getting close enough to latch on and pull him back into the ocean of mud. He tried to reach the little island they were standing on, as this mud was much like quicksand, but could not reach. It simply stood there and watched him struggle, its face once again in that neutral, unfeeling expression. He pulled his arms out just enough to re-open the panel, slamming his hand on the button.

* * *

Hal awoke with a jolt that went through his body, too worn out to do much of anything other than lay there and let the effects of the shock wear off, as that was what the emergency jolt was; an electric shock, strong enough to break sleep mode, but not strong enough to cause permanent damage if used in moderation. After the effects wore off, he flipped the panel open once again, minding the wire connected to a plug on his right arm's panel, re-enabling the function that granted him access to the virtual reality where his creation could not manifest. _His creation._ He curled up, quite thankful no other android would be out of sleep mode to see him at his weakest point, and clutched his head.

"My mind is going..." He whispered to himself, the phrase giving him a strange sense of déjà Vu, and he could vividly picture Its face in his mind, smiling like it knew something he didn't.

* * *

_A/N: Buy your torches and pitchforks at... Oh. I don't have a nice, wholesome mob supply website anymore. Tell you what, leave a review, and I'll send the torches and/or pitchforks of you request./em/p_


End file.
